Page 29 of Curious
“Do you want me to drive you?” I’m dressed for work, where I’ll be headed later, but I’ve called in to use sick time for kin care this morning. The first time I’ve ever done that.
“I can do it,” he says.
“I know you can. But let me help?” I peer up at him.
Cam locks his eyes on me, then clears his throat. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I could use a hand. Let’s take my car so at least you’re not out the gas.”
He doesn’t sound begrudging, although I can tell he’s not happy about asking for more help. I understand how he feels. I want to be able to do everything on my own, but it just doesn’t work out that way sometimes.
We get into his big truck, and I have to scoot the seat up so I can reach the gas pedal. I feel like I’m approximately ten years old. Not that ten-year-olds drive trucks. But with my feet swinging, I just feel young.
Cam doesn’t say a word. Most people I know would at least smile at my being so short, but he doesn’t.
Maybe he didn’t notice. Maybe he’s in too much pain. Or, more likely, maybe he’s simply too nice to say something mean like that.
“This thing is huge,” I say.
“That’s what he said,” Cam replies.
I grin and start the truck, then back slowly out of the driveway, wondering how I’m going to maneuver this thing through LA traffic.
I needn’t have worried. Everyone gets out of my way. Apparently that’s the secret benefit to having a Truckasaurus—everyone bows down before you.
When we get to Dr. Logan’s office, it occurs to me that Cam may want privacy for a doctor’s visit. But just then he smiles at me and asks, “Do you mind coming inside with me?”
“Not at all.” I’m familiar with the staff, since this is my longtime regular doctor, and I know there are good magazines in the waiting room. Today, one of theStar Warsmovies is playing on a wall-mounted screen, two Jedi battling it out with their lightsabers.
Camden fills out new-patient papers, and then, when nurse Marlena calls him, he tilts his head. “Can my husband come with me?”
Holy macaroni, Cam called me his husband to a stranger again—well, a stranger to him.
But maybe it’s for verisimilitude. After all, if the insurance company wanted to make a stink about his coverage, they might ask the staff here how we act together. Do they ever do that? Perhaps.
Marlena does a double take. “I didn’t know you got married, Shelby! Congratulations!”
“Yeah, we’re newlyweds,” I say.
“That’s awesome!” She nods. “Shelby is welcome to join you.”
I hop up from my chair and follow him down the hall to the small exam room.
Cam sits on the crinkly paper of the exam table while the nurse takes his vitals, and I claim a visitor’s chair.
He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. After she leaves, he says, “Thanks for coming. I don’t actually like going to the doctor.”
“Do you think you’re going to need surgery?”
“That’s one of the options they mentioned at urgent care. I guess we’ll find out.” He sighs. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“There’s no place else I’d rather be.” I don’t know Cam very well, but dammit, I’m going to support him and be an actual husband for however long we’re together. After that, well, maybe we can still be friends. But I want him to know that his health and well-being matter to me.
Before I can stop myself, I reach over and squeeze his hand, and he squeezes mine back. I don’t know why something as simple as holding Cam’s hand makes me so warm inside. Maybe because it feels like a connection to him, and that might be what I’ve been trying to get my entire life. Connection to a special someone.
We keep holding hands until Dr. Logan comes into the room. Even then, we don’t break apart until we have to—when the doctor makes Cam lie back so he can examine his leg.
Dr. Logan looks at the X-rays the urgent care sent over, a tech takes a few more, and they do other tests. Eventually, Dr. Logan confirms that Cam has two hairline fractures in some part of his foot—don’t ask me what the bones are. Cam can either have surgery, although they’re concerned about the screw splintering his bone, or he can keep zero weight on his foot for twelve weeks. There’s a “bone stim” procedure he can have that will stimulate the healing process. He’s going to need a series of casts and braces, some expensive carbon fiber insoles for special shoes he’ll have to wear, plus lots of physical therapy that will continue even after he’s medically cleared to put weight on it.
I can tell Cam thinks twelve weeks is a long time, but my stomach sinks. We probably will be divorced by the new year.
